“May I read from it?” Becca indicated the tome in Greek.
“You read Greek?” Bennet’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was already fascinated by Miss Devon. Discovering that she was able to read Greek only added to her winning qualities .
She nodded, her eyebrow arching in challenge.
“If we have the time,” Bennet looked at Devon, who was searching through a pile of duplicates with Miss Constance. When Devon nodded his head, Bennet said, “In that case, I will retrieve it from its shelf.”
As he always did, Bennet took the book down with great care and placed it on his desk near the two chairs in front of it.
Becca sat and opened the cover reverently. Once she had examined the pages just inside the cover, she gently found the start of book twelve ofThe Iliad, began to read the Greek, and translated perfectly into English.
Bennet was enthralled by the woman. She could read Greek better than many of his classmates who had been with him at Cambridge. “If the question is not too intrusive, how is it that you are so proficient in Greek, Miss Devon?” Bennet enquired.
Devon answered for his daughter, “My daughters were indulged in any interests they had, over and above the normal education given to ladies. I would employ masters. Sometimes it was a passing fancy, but for others, like Latin and Greek for Becca, it was a very serious desire to learn,” Devon explained.
“You speak Latin as well?” Bennet asked in that tongue.
“I do, but my reading and writing are better than my speaking,” Becca replied in Latin.
“You could have fooled me. Your spoken Latin is fluent and is better than many men who I have heard attempt to speak it while at Cambridge. The ones I refer to just ended up butchering the language,” Bennet stated as he shook his head. She was magnificent.
“Why, thank you, Mr Bennet,” Becca blushed at the compliment. “I see Gulliver’s Travels on the shelf,” she gestured to it with her head. “It is one of my favourites, so if I may borrow it, I would be most grateful.” She knew she needed to move the conversation along, as she was sure Mr Bennet had noticed her reaction to his words. What was happening to her? She was no debutante nor silly schoolgirl new to society. She had been out for four years and never had a man sparked her interest the way Mr Bennet had.
“It is one of my favourites as well. I have read all of Jonathan Swift’s books. But of course you may borrow it.” Bennet stepped over to the shelf in question, retrieved the book, and handed it to Miss Devon.
Their fingers touched when he handed her the book; both felt a pleasurable shock from the contact, and neither pulled his or her hand away immediately.
“Bennet, Connie and I would like to take you up on your offer and remove these from the duplicate piles to Netherfield Park,” Devon indicated a dozen books on the settee. Becca is free to see if she wants any more, but I think it is time for us to depart; we have taken up enough of your time today.”
“It would please me greatly that those books will be used once again. Your visit has been no imposition, but perhaps you are correct; we should join Mrs Devon and my mother in the drawing room,” Bennet agreed.
Never before had he felt anything like he was beginning to feel for Miss Devon, and quite frankly, it frightened Bennet. No one could make a meaningful connection so quickly—could they? He waited for the Devon sisters and their father to exit the study before he followed.
When those who had been in the study entered the drawing room, they saw two smiling ladies looking at the little bundle in Beth Bennet’s arms. Evidently the two mothers were getting along famously. That was proved when they addressed one another.
“Beth, she is such a sweet baby. Mayhap when she is a little older she will be a little more rambunctious, like all three of mine were,” Mrs Devon said.
“You may be correct, Anna. So far, Jane is a very calm babe. My Thomas was similar at the same stage. Unlike you, Iwas only blessed with one child,” Beth replied. It was then she noticed the four who entered the room. “Come meet little Janey before Nurse takes her back to her cradle.”
Everyone agreed that the babe, who was less than a fortnight old, was a serene and pretty girl. “May I hold her?” Becca requested.
“Of course you may, just remember to support her head,” Beth allowed.
Bennet was fascinated as he watched Miss Devon hold and coo to his daughter. It just looked right. He shook his head and reminded himself it was far too soon to be thinking along those lines.
Mrs Devon stood, and her eldest daughter, somewhat reluctantly, handed the little mite to her nurse.
The Devons took their leave, but not before inviting the Bennets for dinner at Netherfield Park two days hence. The invitation was accepted with alacrity. As Devon had done with him at his estate, Bennet walked the guests out to their carriage. He handed all three ladies in. When it was time to do the honours for Miss Devon, his hand had lingered, and just like in the study, she had not withdrawn her now gloved hand.
“Thomas, are you attracted to Miss Devon?” Beth enquired when her son returned to the drawing room.
“It is so soon, but yes, Mother, I believe I am. Why do you ask?”
“Both Anna and I noticed the way your eyes sought each other out when you thought no one was paying attention. Miss Devon seems to light up when you address her; and your attention is fixed on her more often than not. But as you correctly said, you have only just met and hardly know oneanother, Thomas. Please take your time. There is no hurry, especially after Fanny. If it is meant to be, it will be.”
“Mother, that is sound advice. I will make sure I discover much more about her, and likewise that she comes to know the true me.”
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